Released (Caged #3)(50)

The bitch.

I shuddered a little, and then looked up at Erin.

“I never even heard of prenatal vitamins,” I confessed, “or why Tria needs to make sure she has plenty of folic acid in her diet. I didn’t know any of that shit until we saw Chelsea’s doctor.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Aimee’s mother wouldn’t ever talk to me or anything, so other than knowing…knowing what I could tell when I found her…well, I never knew anything else.”

In my mind, there was a brief flash—a realization that I had just said her name and it hadn’t made me double over.

“So you never found out what really happened?”

“What difference does it make?”

“Maybe none,” Erin said, “or it might make a lot of difference. It might give you some closure.”

I dropped my eyes and fiddled with my fingers, which seemed to be the one thing I did more than talking during my sessions with Shrink Erin.

“Is there a grave?” Erin asked softly.

I nodded.

“Have you ever been there?”

I shook my head.

“Maybe you should.”

I shook my head harder.

“Why not?” Erin asked.

“I just…can’t go there. If I did, I’d probably lose my mind, and I wouldn’t want Tria to see it.”

“Why would Tria see it?” she asked.

“I couldn’t do that by myself,” I whispered. I couldn’t look at her as I admitted my embarrassing fault—I was too weak to go there on my own. I wouldn’t make it past the gates.

“I’ll go with you, Liam.”

“Really?” I looked at her.

“We can hold your next session there.”

A long breath filled my lungs as I thought about it.

“I don’t know,” I finally muttered.

Erin leaned forward in her chair and focused on my eyes.

“How are you going to be a husband to Tria and a father to your child when you haven’t let go of Aimee and your first child?”

I hated the very idea, but Erin had this way about her, and it seemed like as soon as I said no f*cking way, I found myself doing whatever she suggested. This was no exception, and on Thursday, Damon drove me to the little Baptist cemetery where Aimee and the baby had been buried together. Erin was waiting by the entrance when we arrived.

It took twenty minutes just to get out of the car, and another ten to walk the fifty yards toward the area where she was laid to rest.

Laid to rest.

It sounded so f*cking peaceful, but all I could see was her lying on the bathroom floor, covered in blood.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered.

“Take your time,” Erin said. “If it’s too much, we can try again next week.”

Leaning against the rough bark of a maple tree, I tried to stop myself from hyperventilating every time I looked over at the small, flat pair of matching gravestones with nothing on them but their names and dates. There was no way I was going to be able to do this again, not next week, not ever. If I was going to make any kind of progress, it was going to have to be now.

I took a step forward, and gripped the tree bark.

My fingers flexed, and I took another step. I could see the top of the stones with the simple names and dates on them. Aimee’s had both her birth date and the day she died, but the other one only had a single date on it.

“Matthew,” I whispered. I looked up at my counselor. “She named him Matthew, after Aimee’s grandfather. Do people really name babies that…that don’t live?”

“Of course they do, Liam. People mourn when they experience loss, and the mourning needs a name.”

“Matthew,” I said again, even quieter than the first time. “He’d be nine now.”

As the revelation hit me, I lost my balance and dropped on my ass in the dirt between them. A muted stab of pain went up through my tailbone, and the shock of it overwhelmed the rest of my senses. My body convulsed once, and I ended up half flopped over my bent legs. I reached out, my right palm on the grave of my son I never knew, and the left on his mother’s stone—the girl who never had a chance.

I sobbed.

Anguished, terrifying cries rose up into the warm sunshine.

I had no idea how long I was there, or at what point I quieted and realized Erin was there next to me, her hand resting gently on my shoulder.

“I need Tria.” My words were so choked, I could barely understand myself.

“Of course you do,” Erin replied quietly. “Let’s go find her.”

Instead of leading me to the car, Erin took me to the office near the front of the cemetery. There was a small area with a desk and a chair and a room off to one side. Tria was there, sitting on a couch and waiting for me with the Big Bag of Horrors at her feet.

I glanced at Erin, who nodded once.

“She’ll take you home when you’re ready,” my counselor said. She and Tria exchanged a quick glance, and then Erin was gone.

I stumbled toward her as she stood up and helped me to the little couch. I wrapped my arms around her. I was probably holding her too tightly, but I couldn’t bring myself to loosen my grip.

“I’m not going to fail you,” I told her. “I swear…I won’t.”